THE EDGE of THE SONG
by Damien Red
Summary: "You want me to kiss you?" Squidward asks.  It seems that the whole, "I need your help learning how to kiss" was a joke, something to screw up Squidwards performance.  This event marks the beginning of their little love story /Squillward/ Shounen-ai


_(EDGE of THE SONG)_

Squidward Tentacles looked at his watch before slicking back his goofy brown hair. He gazed at himself in the mirror for a moment and sneered at the scorching red pimples embellishing his face, reminding him of Connect the Dots—a thing he enjoyed doing as a kid. Grabbing his clarinet, he reached for the apple his mom left him on the table and waved goodbye to his mother, who gave him a gentle but weary smile as he walked out of the house. Today he wore a brown sweater vest and a red bowtie—for today was a special performance from Sworda Finn's band class and the rival class—Annie Pearl's band. He knew who would give him crap today, raising his una-brow and winking at him in mockery—the one and only…Squillium Fancyson—the best clarinet player in Annie Pearl's class and the most charming boy that every girl would hang themselves to be with. However, even though Squillium enjoyed attention from all the other girls, he had his eye on one pretty squid only—and that was Tori Squid, a beautiful black-eyed beauty with flowing red hair and a flashy smile. Squidward enjoyed her presence too. Those plump lips would be a delight to kiss, thought Squidward dreamily as he made his way to the hell that was high school. _Oh well. If I can make it through sophomore year, I can make it through anything…, _Squidward thought optimistically and he raised his head, smiling while humming a merry tune. Before he tripped over someone's feet. The left side of his head wracked with pain and he felt a twist of vertigo that became even worse when he saw…Squillium standing above him in a polished black suit and slicked back black hair. Instead of his usual cocky demeanor, however, Squillium appeared worried. _Could he be nervous, finally realizing my talent? _Squidward thought, trying not to smile. Squillium helped him up and said with a sigh, "Squidward, I was looking for you. Can we talk for a moment?"

He looked puzzled. Squillium Fancyson was coming to HIM for advice? Gotta be kidding. Squidward shook his head and stammered hoarsely, "What-What was that?" Squillium inched closer and led him away from the gossiping crowd and the slamming of lockers into the boy's locker room, proceeding to seat himself on one of the old lopsided wooden benches.

"You see…" Squillium began in his nasal voice, "You know how I like Tori…" Squidward nodded his head, gesturing for him to go on. Squillium fiddled with his bowtie. "I cannot believe I am asking you this…You know how even though you can't get a date, you've kissed so many girls because of Spin the Bottle?"

"What about it?" Squidward asked, crossing his arms.

"Uh…all the girls say you're good at kissing. I am not," Squillium squeaked. An intimidating silence filled the locker room.

"What are you suggesting?" demanded Squidward, with a smirk on his face that quickly fell when Squillium replied shrilly, "I want you to help me practice kissing. I mean, everyone says you are the expert." Squidward's mouth moved, but no sound came out.

"You want me to _kiss _you?" Squidward stammered, his beady red eyes bulging from his head. Squillium nodded meekly and said, "We have fifteen minutes until the first bell." He tugged on Squidward's arm in desperation, pushing him onto one of the benches. Squidward was actually scared of what was to come, but he felt a strange feeling that he never felt around any girl. "No one comes here in the mornings." Squillium's whispers tickled Squidward's ear and he blushed a little. "What do I do?" Squidward bit his lip in thought. He'd never kissed a guy before. Squillium looked at him expectantly. Squidward leaned over and kissed him softly at first and then harder. Between the kiss he murmured, "Try to kiss back." Squillium shut his eyes and grabbed Squidward's tentacle, holding it tightly as he leaned forward into the kiss. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Squidward becoming a little uncomfortable. When they broke away, Squidward trying to catch his breath, he said, "I thought you were bad!" Squillium smirked. He should of known, Squillium tried to make him feel inferior and humiliate him once again…in the strangest way possible. Vexed, he picked up his binder and stomped off to music class. Squillium uttered something in a low voice before Squidward could make it out the door.

"Tell anyone, Squidie, and you're dead," he told him, in a slightly mocking tone, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing past him. The awkward squid flinched when he heard the name. Fancyson had called him many names, but one so simple and soft…could be used kindly if he hadn't meant it maliciously. It was new to him. Suddenly, the performance didn't seem so important to him. Actually, he'd rather miss it, but he knew that he, the head clarinet player, had to make it.

While, everyone set up their stands and instruments, the teacher, clad in a long Victorian style purple dress and hair in a bun, taps her pointer on the stand and commands musically, "Rise!" Everyone does and Squidward took a nervous sideways glance at Squillium. He began shaking and mentally scolded himself for showing weakness. _You can't let him bother you…_he told himself, although the thought did not make him feel any better. Finn's class began to play, the music sad and stressed with all the tension in the air, but the melody beautiful and calming to the audience. Everyone watched in serene silence as the band performed. When it came time for Squidward to do his solo, he stood up and began to play, his clarinet bellowing loudly. He nearly faltered when he felt the mocking eyes glued to him from several yards away. Squidward quivered, his notes swerving, and a ghastly sound emitting from his clarinet, causing everyone in the crowd to either snicker or start a conversation. Squillium was grinning in satisfaction, Squidward knew, and he dropped his clarinet on the ground. After a few moments of awkward silence, his band members glaring at him ominously, he bent down to pick up the instrument, holding back a river of tears and chocking on immense feelings of humiliation. He picked up the tune again, making several more squeaks that are horrible until his solo ended. Sighing and sitting, hanging his head in grief, he resigned from the rest of performance, biting his lip and silently weeping throughout the rest of the two and a half hours.

Annie Pearl's band began to play. Squidward was too distracted to hear the tune, but he knew that they were good. At the end of their performance, the class was chanting and whistling wildly. Girl's tops even flew off and landed on top of heads, girlfriends roughly kissed their boyfriends, and the nerds and jocks slapped each other's backs—chanting for more. Finn's band stayed tight-lipped and composed, some making bad comments about Squidward.

"We would have one if Squidward hadn't screwed up," one boy in a black collar shirt and messy blonde hair said irritably. Another girl agreed. The most polite boy in the band turned around, gave Squidward the one finger salute, and silently cursed to himself. _Great just great…_he mused, feeling Squillium's smug look penetrating his soul. While clamping down on his lip until it bled, it took all the willpower he had not to sock the kid calling him names next to him, so he balled up his fists. His face was nearly purple when the audience finally left the auditorium. Everyone helped to put away the stands, none of them speaking to Squidward. Shame washed over him and he felt dirty. How could he let Squillium get to him? There was not another time where he was so bothered by him. He tried to forget about the kiss and stopped the thought from fully processing in his mind as he stacked the chairs. None of his band members spoke to him for the rest of the day, and the jocks called him names and smacked him on the back, "Saying good job, dipshit!" in the most sarcastic tone they could muster. Even the nerds gave him sardonic glances. He may have felt better if someone shoved him a locker like normal days, or if Squillium stopped to laugh at him and tell him how much of a screw-up he was. But, his hopes, normally the things he didn't look forward to, didn't come that day. I guess God wants to make a sick joke of him too.


End file.
